Rhys Priestland was booed by some Welsh fans at the Millennium Stadium during the first autumn international against Australia

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For a game that involves the frequent collision of 30 bodies with juggernaut force it is surprising that rugby hasn’t been a Neanderthal enterprise from the start. But it is precisely its formidable physicality that has shaped its culture of camaraderie and respect.

The paradox is summed up in that oft quoted phrase that oval ball devotees imagine gives them moral superiority over their round ball counterparts: “Football is a gentleman’s game played by thugs, rugby is a thugs’ game played by gentlemen.”

But judging by several incidents that took place over the opening weekend of the autumn internationals, that code does not apply to a minority of so-called supporters. Behaviour ranging from irritating ignorance to downright prejudice has opened a debate on the changing culture of rugby.

There were several moments in the Australia game that left me in head-shaking despair. It is unfathomable that there are always a few muppets in the Millennium incapable of observing the Remembrance silence. Two drunken and jarring shouts of “C’mon Wales!” pierced the stillness last Saturday. Is it really that difficult to just shut up for a matter of seconds in memory of people who have given their lives?

Then there was the cacophony of boos and whistles that greeted every penalty taken by Australian fly-half Bernard Foley. That’s the worst I’ve heard an opposition player treated in Cardiff. “But everybody does it!” bleat the boo boys. Does that make it right? Sure, it’s always been a French thing, but the fickle Les Blues fans dish it out to their own team too.

Usually Ireland gives kickers of both sides a deathly hush. And ironically silence can feel more intimidating than a racket. It’s not as if the latter put Foley off. Every ball he sent sailing through the posts only served to make the din-makers look more stupid.

I didn’t actually hear Rhys Priestland getting booed by as he replaced Dan Biggar. What I did hear, however, in the rows around me was a collective groan before the poor guy had even touched the ball. I thought he had a decent game but any error he made prompted a totally disproportionate reaction from certain fans. There is never any sense of Priestland being given the benefit of the doubt. A minority of negatives in his performance will always outweigh a majority of positives.

When this was reported, one of the responses on an internet comments forum was: “If I pay good money for a ticket I have the right to boo players.”

Really? I’ve paid a lot to go to the theatre. That doesn’t give me the right to act like a complete dipstick in the stalls just because I thought the bloke playing Hamlet was a bit rubbish.

The anonymity of the internet gives voice to the keyboard warrior who would think twice about spouting inflammatory opinion in person.

At the height of Welsh rugby’s civil war the debate was often coarsened and clouded by the exchange of personal insults in the Twittersphere when a discussion of the real and concerning issues would have been so much more constructive.

Of course rugby has always provoked extreme passion, propelling fans from one end of the emotional spectrum and back again. But passion is not an excuse to jettison basic standards of decency. While it is a game that can take us from delirium to utter exasperation, ultimately in the scheme of things it is just that – a game.

Nigel is a fabulous ref, a credit to Wales and an inspiration to a generation of gay young men and women. For him to endure such prejudice in a public arena is absolutely appalling and the RFU should take these allegations very seriously indeed.

“As a rugby fan, a straight man in his 60s, I could not believe that a bunch of men half my age watching a rugby match in the 21st century could be capable of hurling such nasty, foul-mouthed, homophobic abuse at an openly gay match official,” Mr Wilson wrote.

While never suffering anything as vile as that, I’ve had a few unsavoury experiences over the year that have underlined rugby’s dark side. The most upsetting was being grabbed by the arm and pinned up against a wall by an aggressive male fan who wished to share his expletive-ridden verdict on Welsh rugby journalism with me. The following morning I considered never writing another word.

Though it has provided hundreds of columns, a book and the content of many broadcasting projects, rugby has never been my main job. It’s my favourite hobby and a big part of my social life. That’s why it has always spilled over into my journalism. But that frightening man in the pub screaming in my face almost killed the joy of it for me.

But then I received a lovely letter from one of my regular correspondents, Paul Tower from North Wales, talking about rugby as usual and expressing his concern over what had happened. That switched me into two-finger mode against the pub aggressor. It reminded me of how there’s so much good in the Welsh rugby community despite the occasional idiot.

There is no finer recent example of Welsh rugby culture at its best than the firework farewell given to Cathays RFC stalwart Alan Powell. The prop died aged just 50 of a brain tumour. But with characteristic rugby club humour, Alan had left special instructions for his ashes.

When the story unfolded on Scrum V, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as Alan’s wife Myfanwy lit a rocket and sent his remains skyward. They came to rest with a bang on the field of his beloved Cathays, who had just seen off Tongwynlais 33-0. Alan’s son Joseph, who had played alongside him in the front row, watched fondly as the pyrotechnic goodbye took place.

It was a magical moment that summed up the spirit of Welsh rugby. Last Saturday brought another poignant and uplifting sight. After the Australia game, I watched Edward Jones, retiring Hon Sec of the Welsh Rugby Charitable Trust, almost too choked to speak as the wheelchair-bound players he has helped for 30 years paid tribute to him with a generous collection and gifts.

Today, whatever the outcome of the game, the Fijian team will no doubt add their choral finale to the post-match festivities – a tradition that first entranced Welsh supporters 50 years ago.

And tomorrow the camaraderie of the game will be embodied further as two valleys combine to raise funds for the severely injured Cardiff Blues player Owen Williams – a Rhondda XV will take on an Abercynon XV at Ystrad Rhondda RFC.

These are examples of the true spirit of the game, a spirit genuine fans buy into and cherish. So after a week like this it’s important to remember rugby’s gentlemen will always outnumber its minority of thugs.